Hell Found Me
by Ghostress
Summary: Alana McKin has no idea what she had gotten herself into. All she knew was that she was in pure, true, everlasting love. Love knows no bounds, does it?


"Hell found me," Alana thought to herself. Finally all her karmic actions had caught up with her. Every deep dark bone chilling experience had come to the surface this cold, unforgiving night. Her body shook with anxiety as red and blue lights swirled about the room from the window.

She stood in the corner of the room, panicked. Wild thoughts on what to do next tumbled around in her mind like a washing machine on a super cycle. All the demons of her actions screamed into her ear.

Alana quickly grasped her ears and sunk into the fetal position on the floor. How did everything get so out of hand? Why did she listen to Jax?

Jax. Everybody she knows, besides little Ethan Everson down the street, can't see him. Not her parents. Not her older brother. Not her best friend, Claire. But he was standing right there next to her in front of them. She often wondered why she was the only one who could see him. Maybe that was when she should've started listening when everybody kept telling her she was nuts. Alana wanted so badly for everyone to meet this wondrous man she adored so.

She liked Jax so much, she denied his nonexistence. The way he could charm her with his words, his soothing voice, even his seductive tone. How she yearned to be his. She would give up anything! Do anything! And she did.

She did everything he said precisely. From a simple kitten adoption to murder. Yes, murder. Like the little boy down the street. Like Claire's dad, the calculus teacher. Like old Mrs. Hemmingway. She murdered them all for him.

Everything started when her family moved into the old house on the other side of town next to the cemetery. She had been excited for the move. She was getting a bigger room after all! And the attic was all hers.

Her parents had set it up to surprise her. It had white carpeting, blue walls, a zebra comforter with blue sheets that matched the walls, and a desk set aside for her weekly knitting project. The windows in her room overlooked the cemetery. The first time she looked down upon it, she saw a boy her age wearing a red letterman jacket and jeans. He had sandy brown curly hair and brown eyes from what she could tell when he looked up directly up into her eyes.

Those eyes; it was like looking into a deep sea of emotion. His eyes stayed locked in hers for what seemed like forever. She felt like she knew him. Like they had been long lost lovers. When she finally blinked, he was gone.

Alana searched for him every day but could not find him. It wasn't until 3 days later he appeared before her in her room. Of course, at that point she knew he was a ghost or something along those lines. But she didn't care. She loved him and he showed love, if possible, to her. Together they found a kitten from the shelter online, which Alana later adopted and named Jax Jr. Alana and Jax treated Jax Jr. like he was their own son, although, most of the time he hissed at Jax.

Jax loved nothing more than seeing Alana smile. He would tell her nice stories and compliment her often. At night, he sang such wondrous melodies until she would fall fast asleep. Call her crazy, but Alana was in love with Jax. Yes, she was in love with a ghost. Nobody knew of her special relationship with Jax. After all, nobody even knew who Jax was; except Ethan Everson. They say that young children can often see what adults cannot. Children have not yet developed skepticism in the world.

After 3 months of being "together," tragedy started to unravel quickly before Alana's eyes, as Jax's words started to become dark and foreboding. It started when she was asked to babysit young Ethan Everson. That night had been going smooth until Jax appeared. Alana was happy to see him, but Ethan did not share the same enthusiasm. He immediately started to cry like someone just stole his Halloween candy. Alana decided he was tired and sent him to bed.

She lay on the couch in Jax's arms, listening to his song, comparing it to how he used to sing for her. His lyrics became heavy and made Alana feel as if she were suffocating. Her vision started to go black fast, as it often did when Jax was around, but she just shrugged it off, as always, as being tired and soon fell asleep.

Alana woke up just 45 minutes before Mr. and Mrs. Everson would return home. She stretched and got up to check on Ethan. When she opened his bedroom door, he was sleeping all right. Sleeping in an eternal slumber. She crept closer to his still figure. Sharp, jagged rocks filled his bed and protruded out of his mouth down throughout his neck.

Alana screamed, horrified and took off into the night. She ran to her neighbors' house where her best friend, Claire, lived. She beat on Claire's window for dear life. Claire instantly came to the window.

"Alana! What are you doing? It's nearly 2am!" Claire exclaimed. She studied Alana's pale face and anxious twitches. She instantly knew something was wrong and let her in.

Claire and Alana sat with each other for hours. Alana told Claire everything. Sitting there, almost unable to form a single sound, Claire let out a breath. She knew her best friend could never do something like that. With that, she vowed total secrecy and gave her permission to stay the night.

The next Saturday morning Claire had some errands to run and left Alana alone in the house, besides her father. Once alone, Jax appeared. And just like the night before, she felt sleepy again, listening to his song ring throughout her soul.

She soon woke up to a vicious, gut-wrenching scream. Alana bolted up and flew down the stairs to the living room. Claire stood over her father's figure, lying on the floor. When Claire saw Alana, she was furious.

"How DARE you! I let you come in and you do THIS?!"

Alana stood confused before she noticed the head of Claire's father lying in the fireplace. She gasped, sick to her stomach.

"Don't you play innocent with me. I trusted you!"

Claire picked up the fire poker and charged at Alana. Jax appeared and whispered something that sounded like "Animus" meaning "Spirit" in Latin. Instantly, she was furious herself. She grabbed the poker from Claire and pushed her back before beating her with it until she no longer seemed to have a face. Alana made a disgusted face then retreated back to bed.

When she awoke, she had a huge headache. The last thing she remembered was tucking little Ethan into bed. She looked around, puzzled, and then snuck out the back door to visit Mrs. Hemmingway.

Mrs. Hemmingway is that old lady in town that everybody adores. She's friendly, loving, nurturing, and a great cook! Especially since she had all the ingredients are fresh out of her garden. Alana goes to her when she starts to feel anxious. Mrs. Hemmingway has a way of calming her down.

It was late afternoon when Alana knocked on her door. Mrs. Hemmingway smiled as she opened the door as well as her heart. The two of them often knit together when things got rough.

Alana is a great knitter, but tonight she could just not get a stitch down. She threw her needles down in frustration. Mrs. Hemmingway smiled patiently as she often did and usually Alana would smile back, but not this time. This time, Alana was ferociously furious. Furious at her memory. Furious at Jax for making her sleepy. Furious at knitting. But most of all, furious at Mrs. Hemmingway. How dare she just sit there and smile at her frustration and anger!

Teeth clenched, she picked up the needles, tossed aside the yarn and glared at the now frightened old lady. She raised a needle clenched hand and brought it down straight into Mrs. Hemmingway's eye. When she pulled her hand back, the eye came out firmly attached to the needle.

Mortified at what she had just done, she ran to the front door. Police officers crowded the entire yard, guns ready. She quickly slammed the door, locked it, and ran upstairs. Alana tucked herself in the corner of the old lady's bedroom.

"Come out, we have you surrounded, Alana McKin."

Alana panicked. "Why is this happening?"

Jax appeared once more before her and laughed. "The moment you fell for me and vowed to do anything for me, you sold your soul."

"I don't understand."

Clearing his throat, Jax continued. "Remember that kitten you bought? You bought it for me. Being a demon, it was an offering. Also, you named him Jax in memorial to me. Then, when you cut your finger and got blood on him, you basically signed your soul to me. Your offering was signed with your blood, making the perfect offering." Jax smiled deliciously.

Alana stood there thinking to herself, "Hell found me."


End file.
